<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Benediction by TonightNoPoetryWillServe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868667">Benediction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonightNoPoetryWillServe/pseuds/TonightNoPoetryWillServe'>TonightNoPoetryWillServe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Jim!POV, M/M, PWP but with allll the feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:49:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonightNoPoetryWillServe/pseuds/TonightNoPoetryWillServe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Jim’s many fantasies of having sex with Spock, he always sweeps the Vulcan off his feet, drives him crazy with want, makes him moan and gasp in very un-Vulcan-like ways. The reality turns out to be the exact opposite.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>252</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Benediction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a little drabble, set in the AOS universe but steals a line from TOS. Occurs toward the end of their five year mission. (There will be a sequel with a very different feel, so I decided to post this as a stand alone!) </p><p>Unbeta'd.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In Jim’s many fantasies of having sex with Spock, he always sweeps the Vulcan off his feet, drives him crazy with want, makes him moan and gasp in very un-Vulcan-like ways. The reality turns out to be the exact opposite.</p><p>“<em>God,</em> tell me this is really happening,” Jim pleads as his first officer’s lips and teeth do completely wicked things to his neck. He’s about to lose his damn mind and they’re both still fully clothed.</p><p>“Affirmative,” Spock whispers, voice low and sultry, his firm body pressing Jim into the wall, hands roaming under his shirt. “But you may call me Spock.”</p><p>Spock is making fucking <em>jokes</em> now, and it sends Jim’s arousal ratcheting up another level.</p><p>“Captain, I believe it would be prudent to remove your clothing at this stage, so I do not inadvertently damage it.”</p><p>“<em>Jim</em>. My name is Jim,” he corrects in a whisper that is entirely too breathy. But he doesn’t really care because he just got to lick Spock’s ear and feel him shudder, which he’s been dying to do for, oh, about five years. But he’s waited, not wanting to ruin the friendship that has already defined him. He’s convinced himself he can be happy just being in Spock’s presence every day until he dies, even though he can't even touch himself without conjuring images of dark eyes and pointed ears. He never thought it would be more than fantasy, until tonight, when his very logical, very Vulcan first officer, had pressed him up against the wall of his quarters and kissed him senseless.</p><p>“<em>Jim,</em>” Spock moans, and Jim captures Spock’s lips in another desperate kiss as Spock wrenches his shirt up, and damnit he has to break the kiss briefly to get it off. Somehow, they both get naked and onto the bed, and Jim’s hands are trying to touch every part of Spock at once, greedy for more. Greedy to do all the things he’s wanted for so so long. <em>Having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting,</em> he’d heard Spock say once, but Jim doesn’t think he could ever tire of having Spock.</p><p>“Your mind,” Spock grinds out, his fingers finding Jim’s face. “It calls to me. May I? Our minds, as one—”</p><p>“Fuck, yes, anything.” Spock has melded with him in the line of duty before, but never like this. Because now he can feel what it’s like for Spock’s sensitive fingers to be wrapped around his own cock, can taste his own lips.</p><p>But more than that, he can feel Spock’s <em>want</em> and <em>need</em> and fucking <em>respect</em>. Spock respects him so much more than he’s ever respected himself, and that should not be such a huge turn-on. He’s pretty sure this other warm feeling wrapping around him is <em>love</em>, and it should be terrifying but instead it’s breathtaking because he can feel it and touch it and know that it’s real.</p><p>Spock can feel everything he feels, too, and is using that knowledge to methodically take him apart, reducing him to a quivering mess of <em>please<em> a</em></em>nd <em>more</em>. He’s stretched and open and Spock is still making him wait even though he’s begging for it, not sure if it’s out loud or in his head but it doesn’t really matter because he knows Spock can hear him.</p><p>Finally, Spock’s inside his body, and inside his mind, and he’s never felt so good, like every part of him that’s ever felt hurt or unworthy is obliterated and all that’s left is the way Spock sees him, brave and brilliant and perfect. And as they move together, their pleasure compounded with every shared touch, Spock’s mind is reduced to a litany of <em>Jim, Jim, Jim</em>, like a mantra, like a prayer, like a benediction—and nothing will ever be the same.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>